


Your Own Seatbelt First

by Merkwerkee



Category: Void Jumpers
Genre: but yeah her heart technically stops for a good minute there, she gets better, spoilers for s3 e5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27373249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merkwerkee/pseuds/Merkwerkee
Summary: Healing magic is a lovely hand-wave to actual healing - but errors during casting can have dire consequences
Kudos: 1





	Your Own Seatbelt First

“Maybe you should heal yourself first -”

Puq’s warning came too late as Bryn’s hand landed on Gwennaig’s forehead. Tag had just a brief moment of stunned horror as he saw blood bloom on Bryn’s temple before something hooked him, in his mind. He could feel Bryn, their psychic connection dragging at his mind like a rope with dead weight tied to the end. He clasped it fiercely, with both hands, and felt the world around him drop away. It wasn’t like entering the phase state, he was still present in the real world, it was just so much _less important_ than what he held in his hands. He may have fallen, it may have hurt - he didn’t know, couldn’t look to himself beyond the bond he shared.

He reached down it desperately, searching for a hold on Bryn that he could anchor to. She had anchored him, when the Malice had poured itself down his throat on the Fire planet; he could _do this_ , for her.

“Bryn. Bryn. Hey, can you hear me? Bryn.”

Even in this non-space that felt almost like the space between reality and the phase state, his voice was hoarse with desperation as he felt his heart try and climb its way into his throat. Unimportant, unimportant, had to focus on Bryn; he could feel it when she latched on to him, though her grip was far weaker than he would have liked.

“…yeah?”

A wave of relief swept through Tag like a breeze; at least she had responded. Though that relief was swiftly followed by more dread; she was slipping, her grip on this world fading.

“Hey, hey buddy, how ya doin’?”

He tried to keep his tone soothing, though she seemed so out of it he wasn’t sure she’d recognize it if he was screaming in fear like he desperately wanted to - though his throat was so tight, he didn’t think he could do more than squeak if he tried it.

“I feel really weird, um…”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know what happened, I just, I…”

Her voice trailed at the end of every sentence, like there was more to say but she was forgetting before she could finish. Like she was drifting away from him, away to a place he wasn’t sure he could follow - wasn’t sure the Malice in his soul would let him go, for all he’d gladly follow her anywhere.

“Um…I don’t know either but just, just stay with me, okay? Just listen to my voice, look at me.” He cast his mind through his memories in desperation - anything, _anything_ , what could he say to convince her to stay? To tie her to this world, where she belonged? “Y'know let’s just, let’s go, let’s go through the things that are hooking us here, alright? Um, what are you so excited to eat as soon as we get out of this lab?”

Several long moments passed and Tag waited as patiently as he could, heart in his throat. He could only hope that the others were helping Bryn into the healing machine Gwennaig had set up, but he couldn’t spare even one iota of attention to be sure. All his will, all his mind was concentrated on the lead-weighted gossamer of their psychic connection.

“…Moonberry pie?”

He had to smile at the memory, the sweet tartness exploding across his tongue in her first gift to him. He’d never had the like; the monastery believed that pleasures of the flesh were a distraction of the mind and never served anything but plain and simple and filling dishes. Perhaps some of the other parallels had tasted of such delights before they came to the monastery, or when they were allowed liberty in the town, but Tag never had. Not until he’d met Bryn.

“Moon. Berry. Pie. Me too. Tell me what it tastes like.”

He waited, and resisted the urge to prompt her as the moments between them stretched like slowly ripping taffy. She _had_ to reach out, she _had_ to remember to anchor herself here.

“Um…it’s so weird, Tag. I can’t focus very well, and I, I can’t…”

Fear spiked his throat and he swallowed. “You need to _try_. Bryn, I _need_ to you to try. Imagine you’re picking up a slice in your hand, I’m there at your door…” He could feel her attention slipping, the bond becoming even more attenuated, and he grabbed as much of a hold as he could on it. It felt like silken thread in his fingers; gossamer, strong when held together, but prone to shredding as the individual fibers snapped one by one.

“Bryn. Bryn. Hey, Bryn. Your mother. Your mom, Bryn. Your last birthday, do you remember?” He hadn’t been there, but she’d told him about it on Haven on their way to this planet. About how her mother had loved her enough not to listen to her even when she thought she was right - and how much she’d loved it, loved her mother.

“…yes?”

“You remember she, she surprised you - you didn’t think that anything was planned because you said ‘I have a big test tomorrow, I don’t want a big deal for my birthday.’ And she said 'okay, I understand,’ so the day before that you woke up and she did this fake pre-birthday day. Do you remember that?”

He felt her hold strengthen slightly.

“…yeah.”

Desperate, Tag pushed on; he couldn’t lose her. Without her to anchor him to this reality…He wasn’t like the other parallels. He couldn’t go back to the monastery a failure. In fact, he wasn’t sure how much he could hold on to this _reality_ without her help; now that he had stepped into his true self once, he could feel it almost _itching_ at the back of his mind, could feel every _excruciating_ confining edge of his mortal self. Bryn let him ignore that, let him suppress those feelings; without her…

“Okay. Stay with me there, Bryn. Bryn we’re, we’re, we’re, we’re in trouble right now, you and I, but I need you to just stay hooked into me, okay? Stay hooked into our connection to what you can remember.”

“I think I can see my dad.”

Not good. “What do you see?” He prompted her, willing to try anything to keep her talking.

“Huh. Um. I see…a figure. Tall. Large. Super warm and comforting and familiar - but not familiar. I don’t know. He’s reaching out his hand.”

He could feel her reaching out to something he couldn’t see, something even further away from the world they’d left behind.

“Bryn-”

Tag’s throat seized and he choked; it felt like someone had their hands at his neck, stopping his throat from working. He could still breathe, could still swallow - which he did, convulsively - but he couldn’t make a single noise.

 _Bryn,_ he mouthed. _Bryn!_

He couldn’t hear her, but he could still feel her - just barely within his reach, near the end of their shared tether. Not drawing any closer, but not getting any further away either. He could hear her speaking - what was she saying? The sounds wouldn’t resolve themselves into words, staying just beyond the edge of understanding. He gritted his teeth in frustration; how could he help her if he couldn’t speak to her?

_Bryn!_

Tag shouted with all of his might, but not a syllable escaped. He sucked in a breath to try again and-

“I’m not - I don’t - I’m not ready to give them up. I’m sorry.”

Bryn’s voice reached him as the hand disappeared from his throat. He had to smile; he wasn’t ready to give up on her, either. Now, if only-

The world exploded in a bloom of fire.


End file.
